


Humanity In Daylight

by herwhiteknight



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Magic, it's a very very brief reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herwhiteknight/pseuds/herwhiteknight
Summary: She once thought that freedom was an open sky, being coated in ash while roosting high on an active volcano. Terrorizing humans who cheated, and murdered and stole. She thought freedom was found within her power. But after being cursed with humanity a few mere months ago, she was slowly starting to understand that freedom was found within connection.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 16
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My friend, JJLives, and I happened upon a tumblr prompt about a knight who was tasked to kill a dragon - only to find that the dragon had transformed into a human underneath their sword, poised to strike. We challenged each other to go off and write our own versions of the prompt and post them. But she finished hers like _way_ earlier than me and has since posted it. I'm finally getting around to finishing mine just now, like. Nearly a month after she posted hers? So sorry about that Jay!
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoy! I will be releasing this fic in its chapters over the next week or so. Be sure to look out for that! :)

Yang felt the change coming the way she always did - a build of anticipation that clawed at her lungs, thrummed in her veins. It always happened earlier the closer the lunar cycle neared a full moon. The last dying rays of the sunset fell below the earth, and the low rumble in her chest diminished, the fire of her soul stoking unbearably hot for a moment as her form began to shift. It was always agony, the transformation, as her human vessel was not quite able to contain her dragon’s breath until she fully shed her scales. 

But when she did - _oh._ That was freedom.

She once thought that freedom was an open sky, being coated in ash while roosting high on an active volcano. Terrorizing humans who cheated, and murdered and stole. She thought freedom was found within her power. But after being cursed with humanity a few mere months ago, she was slowly starting to understand that freedom was found within _connection_.

True, she’d only terrorized humans who hurt others, but beyond that, she’d found little to no use for their interactions. Not that she was ever given much of a chance to do so in the first place - no. Humans were afraid of her kind. She’d heard of stories, all while wishing she had not been gifted the knowledge to understand them and their language, and knew what they thought of her.

They hated her.

But becoming them? That was _a gift._ A slowly learned gift, something the humans would call “a blessing in disguise”, but a gift nonetheless. Mingling and communing with humans was unique - a thing Yang found to be sacred, despite many less than desirable encounters due to a great number of them to be filled with alcohol or other intoxicants. There was a certain kind of people who wandered late at night, and being amongst them just made Yang crave humanity even more. A humanity she could experience in daylight.

Her spine cracked, twisting and shrinking into an upright posture, her wings burning off excess dragonfire, piling into ash behind her as her claws retracted deep into her bones, leaving her knuckles raised slightly higher than a normal human hand. It would’ve been something that made her stand out from other natural-born humans, but since her curse only lasted through the night, it would take a human of particular keen observation to even notice anything amiss.

She’d spent two months exploring the town at the base of her mountain and her appearance had never been questioned. Tonight would be no different. 

She pulled in a deep lungful of air as the first moonbeam hit her pale skin, and the last few scales dropped from her face, puffing into ash before they even had a chance to hit the ground. The air around her was crisp, sharp with the smell of pine needles and Yang went about pulling on her simple tunic and linen pants, feeling energized. _Tonight, something was different,_ she thought to herself as she cinched up the cord of rope around her waist, making sure that the small leftover stump of her tail was covered. She grinned, satisfied, and stepped out of her lair before heading down the mountain.

Despite the curse transforming her into a human, she retained most of her dragon senses - most notably her sight, smell, speed and endurance. Because of this, hikes up and down the mountain that would’ve taken humans hours took Yang mere minutes instead and, owing to increased bone density and thicker hide - _skin_ \- she made leaps that would’ve shattered normal human’s bones, grabbing onto jagged outcroppings to slow her descent on patches of rockslides. 

As she neared the town, the air surrounding the village of Mountain Glenn bled with tension. A small group of people - Yang’s sharp eyes counted the outline of a party of six - had gathered at the fork of the road that led out into the forest. Towards the mountain.

“We shall no longer be terrorized by this beast!” a brash young man roared, brandishing his torch towards the sky. The others cheered in response, like an ungodly howl piercing the night, and Yang couldn’t stop the chill from spilling down her back. “We will climb the mountain while it sleeps and clip its wings, tear its fangs from its mouth - cut off its head! And we will free this village from it’s tyranny!”

Yang halted in her approach, ducking behind a tall tree as the company roared once more, lifting swords high, banging maces against shields. All save for one - the shortest of them all, bearing no weapons aside from a long thin dagger strapped to her thigh. She tugged at the man’s arm, drawing his attention to her, cutting off his warcry. And when she spoke, her voice was so gentle that even with her superior hearing, Yang had to shift forward out from the shelter of the brush, straining to listen. “Adam, are you certain this will work?”

“Of course, my love. Do you doubt your skill?” he reassured her, resting a hand on her shoulder. His voice carried through the moonlight with a sinister sound, and it stirred up something horrid deep within Yang’s dampened dragonfire. She _knew_ this man….

“It’s not that, at all, I just-”

“You are the quickest among us. With all of us distracting the beast, you will be able to drive your dagger through its heart before it even realizes that you were ever there,” he said, turning towards the path that lead up the mountain, torchlight spilling over his face, revealing one half that was melted like wax, the disfiguration disappearing below his collar.

“ _No_ ,” Yang hissed, a rumble vibrating in her chest as her throat longed to summon the flames that she couldn’t - not without damage to her current self. “He _survived_?!”

“Onwards, champions!” he shouted, drawing his blood-red katana and jabbing towards the mountain with authority. The march began, a horrible clanging thing as heavy boots crunched upon gravel.

As much as Yang wanted to take a smug joy from the knowledge that they would be marching up the mountain for hours only to be confronted by an empty, uninhabited cave, she shook with a rage her human frame could barely contain. She remembered watching him for weeks, watching his shady deals, his casual cruelty, the way he revelled in his own contempt. But she hadn’t acted, not until she had found him in a small cabin in the woods, a fair hike from Mountain Glen, bearing down on top of a crying girl-

The group of Adam’s bloodlusting companions neared her hiding place, and trailing behind them, the girl with the dagger strapped to her thigh. The girl who was meant to kill her. The girl that she’d thought she’d saved that day.

She had to do something. She had to get her away.

Yang looked down at her hands, her frail and shaking hands, and for once, found herself cursing her humanity. How could she save _anyone_ like this? 

Yang almost reached out and grabbed her arm as she passed by. It wouldn’t have been hard to get her away from the group, she’d be able to sling her over her shoulder and sprint away in no time, and her enhanced attributes would give them enough of a head start to hide in one of the smaller caves at the base of the mountain before they even knew to start looking for her. 

She shook her head at herself, mocking the foolish plan with a snarl. She’d be just as bad, if not worse, as _him_ if she took her away by force. It didn’t matter how unwilling she looked, it still had to be her choice. She just had to be given another option to be able to even make the choice clear.

An idea blossomed in her head and she scrambled away, looping around to the far side of the mountain so that she could reenter her cave without being detected by the dragonslayers. She leapt from handhold to handhold as the mountain face grew steeper, the thick knobbed ridges of her scapulas shifting underneath her skin, begging for flight. It always made her skin itch from the inside out, the same way that her claws did when seeking a fight, but she pushed it off to the side, focusing on her plan instead. If she could just find a way to talk to the girl….

She paused just above the mouth of her cave, frowning to herself. “And say what, dummy?” she rolled her eyes. In the distance, she could see the small pinpricks of torchlight bobbing as the party made their way up the mountain. “Hello, fearsome dragon here, I actually don’t want to hurt anyone except that red-headed prick over there because he didn’t die the first time I lit him on fire. Now run away with me, I promise I won't eat you when the sun rises.”

Like _that_ would go over well.

She glanced around the cave, debating the next part of her ruse. She had to make the cave appear to have been just recently vacated, like she’d just gone hunting and would be returning soon with a fresh kill. Then, a pile of _treasure_ that Yang had accumulated from trips down into the village - shiny trinkets that had no real value to her, but would provide enough of a distraction to those greedy bastards to make them risk staying for a few minutes while Yang talked to the girl somewhere out of sight. Then all she had to do was lure the girl somehow over to her without alerting Adam and his band of boneheads. What could go wrong?

It took Yang the better part of an hour to arrange everything so that it sat close enough to the front of the cave to keep them from venturing deeper, where she’d end up drawing the girl to. In theory. She hadn’t quite figured that part out yet.

Loud voices drifted into the cave and Yang jumped. They must’ve been moving at a particularly fast pace to have made it up the mountain in that little amount of time - though Yang supposed that their quest for glory or whatever had flooded their veins with adrenaline. _Just as well,_ she thought as she retreated against the wall of the cave and waited.

They entered the cave a few minutes later, weapons drawn and moving as stealthily as their bulky armor allowed. All except for the girl, who wore darkly dyed leather armor strapped to her chest, shoulders thighs and shins. Interestingly, Yang noted no armor covering any part of her arms - better maneuverability, perhaps?

“Spread out,” Adam whispered, his voice easily carrying through the cave. If she’d _actually_ been as her dragon self, she would’ve heard him approaching. Him and his gang. All except for the girl. She would’ve actually had a chance.

As predicted, the soldiers quickly got distracted by the pile of trinkets, the way they gleamed enticingly under the moonlit. One of the bulkier ones bearing a mace pointed to the _“fresh”_ pile of bones that had been carefully scattered to look like they’d been flung about in a fit of ravenous hunger. “Boss, look. You think it’s out hunting?”

Adam nodded sharply, brandishing his torch aloft, trying to pierce the deeper darkness of the cave. Yang scooted further back on the wall just to be safe as Adam made a brief sweep. “You might be right. There’s no sign of the beast.”

“Not like you tried very hard,” Yang muttered quietly, unable to help herself. 

“Be prepared to leave in case it returns, men.”

_Coward,_ Yang thought, curling her lip in disgust. _You just don’t want to do any more work of searching the cave unless you have to_. 

“Adam, I’m going to explore a little further over here. I thought I’d heard something,” the girl murmured. Yang tensed. She shouldn’t have been able to hear her!

“Something, my love?” Adam inquired, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. 

“An animal perhaps. Maybe still clinging to life after being toyed with by the beast?” she said as she walked slowly over to where Yang stood against the cave wall. “Most likely nothing, but if I can end the suffering of such an animal, then I will.”

“Such a compassionate person you are, Blake,” Adam said - and it would’ve sounded loving if his voice didn’t ooze poison. “We’ll collect some of this treasure and then leave before it returns - we won't be leaving here empty handed no matter what. Got it, men?”

They nodded, turning to rummage through the pile, backs towards the deeper darkness as the girl, Blake, slowly paced her way towards where Yang had spoken. 

_Well, she wanted to find a way to get her alone_ , Yang shrugged ruefully to herself. And now armed with the knowledge that apparently Blake could somehow hear her in such a way that the others seemingly could not, she called out gently, "Over here."

Blake’s gaze snapped over towards her, and it made Yang tremble. Though out of fear or anticipation (or both) she couldn’t really be sure. Her hand found the cave wall and guided her over to where Yang was hiding in a shallow crevice. So her eyesight wasn’t that good after all, Yang noted. “What are you doing here?” she hissed. A pause. Then, “Are you being held captive?”

She had finally stepped close enough that Yang could make out her face through the inconsistently flickering torchlit that came from the other hunters at the mouth of the cave. And what she saw nearly made her lose all sense of rational thought. “Captive? From what?” Yang blurted.

Blake stared at her incredulously, and it felt like there was a certain hypnosis within her eyes, an indescribable sort of power or deep magic. “Have you been bewitched? Do you know where you are?” she asked.

“I’m home,” Yang felt compelled to say, as if the answer was plumbed from the depths of her lungs. She frowned at herself. _What was going on?_

Blake mirrored her expression, though Yang was certain it wasn’t for the same reasons. “You’re in the Sun Dragon’s lair,” she explained slowly, keeping her gaze trained on Yang’s eyes. “And you’re telling me… that this is _home_ to you?”

“Sun Dragon? _That’s_ what they’re calling me?” Yang folded her arms and tilted her head. “Gotta say I like the sound of that.”

“You-” A loud crash of metal split through the air, startling them both. Blake broke eye contact to whip her head in the direction of the disturbed pile of treasure, and Yang felt like a headiness had lifted. Was she some kind of witch? That would explain her ability to apparently hear and see her when the others couldn’t.

“Look,” Yang grabbed her arm just above her elbow, pulling her attention back. She kept her eyes averted downwards just slightly this time though. “I know this is going to sound… well, _insane_ but… this is my lair. _I’m_ the Sun Dragon.” _I promise I won't eat you when the sun rises,_ she added on ruefully in her head. 

“Look at me,” Blake demanded as Adam berated the men in the background. When Yang hesitated, Blake took her jaw in her free hand and forced her eyes back into hers. A long moment passed as her amber irises gazed discerningly into her own. A breath. “You were cursed,” she whispered.

Yang licked her lips nervously. Now that she was aware of the power that Blake held, she found herself trying to resist it. But something else compelled her, something in her soul, and she found herself talking anyway. “Four months ago, I was ambushed by a group of men who sought to control me. They had a sorcerer with them, but I managed to break free of their restraints and kill the sorcerer before he had a chance to finish his spell correctly. It left me as I am now, with a partial curse that lingers over my bones and forces my soul to transform into a human each night.”

Blake’s expression stilled for a moment as she took in Yang’s words. Then, a look of realization dawned across her features. “The sorcerer in white,” she whispered. “Jacques Schnee….”

Yang snarled at the mere mention of his name, the soul of her dragon fire stirring within her, a primal reaction as her anger spilled over. Before she could quell it, a sudden pain seared through the hand that was gripping Blake's arm, and she couldn’t keep herself from yelping. “What the _hell_ -” she snapped. As she yanked her arm away, she caught sight of a faint glow underneath Blake’s dark sleeves before it faded. The marks were unmistakable despite the brief glimpse.

“You’re a Slayer,” Yang stepped back. Stilled. “You’re a Slayer and you’re with _that bastard!_ ” 

“He protects us, the village-” Blake started, but Yang was already past the point of containable rage. Her spine cracked in agony, much too early in the night for the transformation, and her skin split with leaking veins of fire.

“Protects them from _my kind_ , you mean,” Yang roared, her voice deepening, echoing as her chest expanded, making room for dragonfire. A small part of her, some tiny voice in the back of her mind, begged her to look at Blake - _watch, she’s terrified of you_ \- and to quench the flames before it was too late.

“The beast!” Adam yelled from the mouth of the cave. “To arms!”

Yang stopped for just a moment, her tongue coated with the taste of ash as she longed to unleash flames on them all - it was all they saw her as anyway. Violent. A force of destruction. Death itself. 

Blake’s hand automatically went to the knife at her waist, drawing it faster than Yang could track. It looked comfortable in her hand, easy. Trained. A glittering garnet was inlaid at the pomel, and fear shot through her, the ashes tasting bitter on her tongue at the sight of it. She knew it was infused with a certain magic that could sheer through dragonscale without resistance. Even without the hand of a trained Slayer guiding it, dragons learned to fear the magic of a blood red garnet.

And in her vulnerable state, she wasn’t sure what it would do to her human skin and bones.

“What are you _waiting_ for?” Adam screamed as the rest of the men charged forward, clanging shields and weapons on their breastplates. Yang knew that their goal was to distract her from Blake, but now that Blake was all she could see, nothing else they did mattered.

“Attack!” he lunged, drawing his burning red sword, its glow strangely similar to the glow that Yang had seen on the tattoos of Blake’s arms. 

Yang dodged off to the side easily, mindful of keeping herself from getting surrounded, knocking one of the larger soldiers out of the way easily as she scrambled for the cave opening. Her tongue still tasted like ash and her ribs still ached from the built-up dragonfire, so she allowed herself to spit out a line fire at their feet to cover her escape.

Blake paid it no heed though - she had little to worry about, covered with her Slayer’s tattoos as she was. She leaped through the wall of flames, hands pressed together like a blade to split the flames as she vaulted herself forward to keep the chase. 

“ _Shit_ ,” Yang hissed, as she took off towards the back of the mountain again - it would be too easy for Blake to follow her down the regular path. The sheer descent of the mountain face might offer her a bit of a challenge.

Then again, Yang wasn’t sure how much of Slayer magic was mere fairytales and how much of it was the truth. And with how easily Blake kept on her tail, _not-tail,_ she was beginning to think that there were a lot of things about Slayers that even the fairytales didn’t cover.

She ducked under a tree branch and made a risky leap down to a ledge. Gravel shifted loose underneath her feet and she skidded, careening headlong for a deadly fall down the mountainside. 

_Would’ve_ careened down a deadly fall, anyway. If it hadn’t been for Blake grabbing her by the neck of her shirt and hauling her upright, straight into the wicked edge of her blade. Yang gulped, forcing the dagger to bob along with the movement.

“So, what now?” she had the audacity to ask. “You’re going to kill me?”

“No,” Blake said coldly even as her voice wavered a little, pulling them both back from the ledge just a little bit. “Adam wants that privilege for himself. He wants revenge on the dragons for what they did to him - they ruined his life!” She pressed the dagger closer, a thin line of blood appearing at its edge. But despite the cruelty of her actions, she didn’t look like she believed the words she said.

“The fucker deserved to _burn_!” Yang hissed, her ears catching the sound of clamouring armor. “I only regret that I couldn’t finish him off for good,” she snapped, grabbing at Blake’s wrist despite the way that the magic of her tattoos seared at her skin. 

“You-?”

“Yeah,” she said shortly. “I tried to save you that day. When he was-”

“Don’t,” Blake whispered, dangerously quiet as her word snapped tension and magic through the air. 

“Couldn’t save you from your own choices though, could I?” Yang said bitterly, shoving Blake away from herself. All resistance in her body seemed sapped at Yang’s harsh words as they brought memories flooding back. 

“Dragons burned my parents. My.. best friend,” she said, lifting the dagger back to Yang’s neck, point first now. The anger in her words seemed to drive her, but it seemed more like a burden than a vengeance. “They - _you_ deserve to die for that!” 

“I’m sorry about your loved ones,” Yang said softly, meaning it as genuinely as she could with cold steel pressed to her throat. “I guess cruelty exists on both sides.” Her words fell quietly as the shouting grew louder, and Adam finally appeared on the ledge above them, rocks and dust cascading over the edge as he skidded to a halt to keep himself from plunging down the mountain. “But it doesn’t excuse what he did to you.”

“I-” Blake started, the point of the dagger starting to fall away.

“Excellent work, Blake,” Adam drawled as he sheathed his sword and tossed down a rope. “Keep it there. I’ll be right down to finish it off.”

He didn’t even seem to care that Yang didn’t look anything close to a dragon, he just wanted to satisfy his bloodlust. How long would it be before he turned on Blake herself? 

Blake glanced upwards at Adam, her eyes spinning with seemingly similar questions. “I don’t _want_ this anymore,” Blake whispered, frantic, into Yang’s ear as he began his climb while his men secured the rope. “I’m so tired of fighting.”

Yang opened her mouth, started to say something about how she could help, how they could take him down if they worked together, but right at that moment, Blake pulled her dagger away from her neck and shoved _hard_ at her chest. And sent her backward over the edge and careening into the long drop of the abyss. 

As she tumbled wildly down the cliff, she caught one last glimpse of Blake’s amber eyes glittering over the ridge and beside her, Adam’s blood red sword. Loud shouting was the final thing to reach her ears as her skull cracked against the ground violently - and everything went black.

  
  
  


Blake came to her when the sun rose, unafraid and unarmed. Her golden eyes shone with power that was only bolstered by the halo of the golden morning light, giving her a vision of being godlike. Her appearance was unchanged from the night before, though her the sleeves of her black silk shirt had been cut off, revealing a twisting and undulating pattern that decorated her arms, stopping just past her elbows. They burned a dark maroon - a colour Yang had come to associate with Adam’s sword.

She was coming to finish the job. Though why she hadn’t followed her down the cliff to check if she was still alive during the night, when she was the most vulnerable, Yang couldn’t reason. Everything was foggy. 

“I thought Adam wanted me to himself,” Yang slurred through broken vocal chords. She pushed herself up to an upright position, saw blood painting her arms and hands like broken shards of armor. _Wait… hands?_

“He does,” Blake knelt next to Yang as the daylight pierced through the trees and started to envelope the two of them with a golden cloak. “Which is why you need to wake up right now. He’s coming for you.” She drew the dagger from her thigh, holding it aloft so that the garnet glittered in the sunlight.

“Wait-!” Yang started, barely lifting her hand in a plea before Blake struck, stabbing the dagger right through her heart.

  
  


Yang woke up with a jolt, gasping. A searing pain had taken up space within her chest, and with it, a faint glow of a rune. Blake had Marked her? To what end? If she wanted to track her down later for her own self, why push her down the cliff? Why wait with the dagger at her throat for so long? She could’ve just finished it right then and there.

_But no_ , Yang thought to herself as she nudged aside her shirt collar to take a look at the small purple flower that pulsed just above her left collarbone. _As angry as she was, I think she was just terrified more than anything else._ Her last words, _I’m so tired of fighting_ , resonated in Yang’s ears as the Mark sent a particularly painful lance of sharp heat through her chest and drove her to her feet.

_She wants an escape,_ Yang realized as she glanced back up the mountainside where torchlight was still visible. “Wake up,” Blake’s voice resonated in her ear, as if she was speaking directly into her own thoughts. “He’s coming.”

“Blake?” Yang wondered aloud, wincing as she hobbled out into the forest, trying to put as much distance between herself and Adam. 

The Mark on her chest pulsed again, but the energy didn’t burn as before. It felt warm, like a small heartbeat. It reminded Yang of the first time she breathed her first flame. A feeling of peace washed through her. “I’ll find you tomorrow, when the sun rises. Please don’t eat me.”

Yang couldn’t stop herself as low rumble reverberated through her frame, exuding amusement. “No promises,” she chuckled to herself as she gingerly made her way down to a small underground cave system - her emergency hideout for whenever she couldn’t make it back up the mountain in time for the morning.

Then, with that small heartbeat keeping her company, she curled up in the corner of the largest cave. And waited for the transformation in the sunrise.

  
  


“ _You let it go_?!” Adam roared, seizing Blake by her collar and dangling her over the same cliffside that she had pushed the Sun Dragon down. The Sun Dragon who had been cursed into the form of a vulnerable girl. The same girl who Blake had just Marked.

“It’s smarter than it looks, Adam,” Blake admitted as she curled her hand into a fist, hiding the other half of the Mark with nails that cut into her palm. “Apparently it can still use magic while in that form.”

Adam bellowed wordlessly, throwing Blake against the wall and drawing his sword and pressing the point into her side. Her tattoos burned in response, as they always did. A reminder of what he stole from her. “You _will_ find it,” he snarled, twisting the point deeper, causing Blake to gasp as blood started to soak through her shirt. “And you aren’t coming back until you have proof that you’ve subdued it enough for me to finish it off myself. _Whatever it takes,_ do you hear me? Or I’ll have the rest of the magic drained from your blood and leave you with _nothing_.”

Terrified and shaking, Blake could do nothing else but nod. 

“Good,” he smiled, threading his fingers through her hair as he pulled her head down to kiss her on the forehead, his sword still pierced through Blake’s side. “Because if you don’t find it, you will be of no more use to me.”


	2. Chapter 2

Daylight came with warmth. Yang opened her eyes to find that smoke was curling pleasantly out of her nostrils, creating a thin haze through the cave that was suddenly much smaller than last night. A rumble vibrated through her chest, her tail swishing happily as she turned her eyes towards the mouth of the cave, where a gold and purple sunrise beckoned along with a clear sky. 

She hauled her large frame out of the cave, snaking easily through the large exit tunnel before spreading her wings and launching herself into the air. She gained altitude in large lazy spirals, enjoying the way the wind split over her wings and spat out a few spurts of flames just to feel their warmth as she flew through them. 

“Enjoying yourself?” a voice reverberated in her head. 

Yang startled, twisting in midair in her shock, nearly upending herself and sending her crashing into a nearby lake. Once righted, she did another, more careful, check of her back to see if somehow Blake had managed to find her in the early hours of the dawn and had climbed on her back. Or something.

“What the _hell_ are you doing in my head?”

“That’s how the Mark works,” she explained. “At least, that’s how it normally does. I was expecting something different with you, given that you’re an actual dragon.”

“Is it going to kill me?” Yang thought nervously, remembering the sharp pain she’d felt in her dream and immediately upon waking. She didn’t know much about Slayer lore, but what she did know… well, it was like Blake was the dragon and Yang was humanity itself. Which was ironic, to say the least, given that Yang was technically both and also neither.

“Only if I wanted you dead.”

“Well, that’s something,” Yang replied with a puff of smoke, gliding along an updraft as she flew towards her favourite volcano. 

“I just wanted to find you again. I didn’t know if you would go into hiding after last night,” Blake said, her thoughts spinning along with Yang’s own, and it made everything just that much more confusing and murky. Flashes of the village cut in front of her vision - a dusty road, a dark enclosed room lit with a single candle. Hands unwrapping a bloodied bandage.

“Yeah, because why _wouldn’t_ I stick around after a group of bloodthirsty Slayers came to murder me in my sleep?”

“They aren’t Slayers,” Blake said, a dull throb of pain crossing the Mark’s connection. “I’m the only one.” She sounded exhausted. Worried.

“And that man? Adam?”

The connection almost withdrew, Blake’s emotions and presence nearly vanishing from Yang’s mind - and she couldn’t tell if it was a conscious decision on her part, or perhaps if it was more of a defence mechanism. Then, “He is what I made him to be. And you, indirectly.”

“What do you-?”

“Slayers gain their powers through their tattoos. Without them, their magic doesn’t function as it should and, in some cases, the connection can be completely severed,” Blake said.

“So… that day when I…,” Yang started, remembering the satisfaction she took as she watched the house collapse around the bastard. 

“The beam that gave him those burns nearly killed me,” Blake cut in, anger flashing pain across Yang’s chest. “He pushed me out of the way. Saved me. I’ve owed him my life for that.”

Yang noted the past tense, but didn’t comment. She wasn’t sure how powerful Blake’s Mark on her was, but she’d heard stories about those with Slayer’s Marks being felled instantly at the slightest whim of viciousness. “So he used to be a Slayer too,” was all she said.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Blake replied as another throb of pain settled as a dull heat around Yang’s lower belly. 

“He hurt you last night,” Yang said after a moment of quiet as she landed on the highest ridge of the volcano’s crater, revelling in the sheer intensity of the heat.

“It matters not,” Blake replied sharply, even as Yang caught a vision of Blake’s hands, clean and precise, tying off a neat knot around her abdomen. Blood had already started to seep through the freshly changed bandages.

“Why have you stayed with him?!” Yang asked, incredulous with disbelief. “He’s obviously cruel, and hateful, and malicious - why… I mean, maybe this Mark is driving me slowly insane, but I don’t see any of that in you. Why stay?”

A long silence enveloped Yang’s mind. Then memories flooded in, none of them hers. Three little kids, two girls and an older boy, laughing and playing in a large backyard. An older man, towering yet kind, sweeping them up in a hug, laughter ringing through the air, clear and free in Yang’s ears - almost as if she was right there beside them. She glanced across the scene, her eyes not her own, and spotted a gentle looking woman smiling fondly at them all as they played.

“They were orphans. My parents… they took them in. We were all close, but… I could tell that Adam favoured me over Ilia. Spent more time with me, called me beautiful when no one else was around to listen,” Blake explained, and her emotions and thoughts twisted the ones in Yang’s gut, creating a vortex of confusion. Yang hated this man, hated him for what he tried to do to Blake - a little girl she hadn’t even known at the time - but Blake herself… there was affection there. Genuine. And filled with sorrow.

“It shouldn’t have been a surprise,” Blake said, a dark vision striking next - three dragons, imposing and deadly, soaring low across the horizon. Flames belched from their throats, fangs bared and singed with soot. For once, Yang didn’t see them as familiar. All she saw was fear. “I still blame myself for it. If I had just convinced him, spent more time with all of us, maybe he would have felt more included, maybe… he could’ve seen them as family….”

Yang felt the heat all around her in the vision, felt it char and boil at her skin. She screamed, cried out - calling for help and reaching, begging to be rescued-

“I lost them all that day,” Blake continued, cutting off the memories of a little girl with long dark red hair and scared blue eyes reaching out for rescue, burning underneath the remains of her home as her best friends - her _family_ \- ran away without her. “Adam told me that we were all that was left. That we were the ones who had to fight back and make sure that no one else in our village _ever_ went through the same thing we did. I was young. And he was convincing. 

“But… he’s changed. The more dragons he’s killed, he just gets worse. He told me… that once it was all over, things would be different. But he - last night, you weren’t even a dragon! You were just a girl, who could’ve just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and he just wanted to kill you, I…”

“This girl-dragon’s name is Yang, by the way,” Yang said, trying to lighten the mood. Her words came off a little forced, stilted, as the image and feel of being burned alive still crawled through her soul. She’d never feared flames before, never truly realized their destructive, devastating power. But that vision, that _memory_....

“Yang...,” Blake turned over, curious. The way she pondered it, it felt foreign in her own brain, like her identity was being inspected from all angles. She felt Blake focus on it, like it was an anchor point to draw her towards, to help her shake off the memories. Then, “If you wouldn’t mind meeting me somewhere other than Mount Beacon, I would greatly appreciate that. Burning to a crisp is not exactly high on my list of things to do today.”

Yang laughed, suddenly brought back to her surroundings, as if her mind had been living another lifetime in just a span of a few short minutes. “Where did you have in mind?”

Across their link, Blake sent an image of a small cave hideout and the directions somehow came along with it - just a little further north of the house that Yang had laid fire to in hopes of saving Blake that night. She wondered if Blake had found it on her own, or if it was somewhere that Adam knew about. “It’s not a trap. Adam doesn’t know about it,” Blake assuaged readily, processing her doubts. “I found it one night when I… was going for a walk once.”

An image, unbidden, of Blake sprinting through the underbrush, thorns catching at her knees and ankles, terrified breathing loud in her ears, blood pounding-

 _He had tried again_ , Yang thought, trying to keep it concealed. But Blake’s weighted despair settled in her heart, and she knew keeping a secret while Marked was pointless. Yang brought the image of the location back. “You know I won't be able to actually _go in_ right?”

“You will if you meet me just before the sun falls,” Blake said. “Then I can see the curse for myself. And see if there’s any way I’d be able to help you rid yourself of it.”

“Sunset,” Yang nodded. “Sure thing. As long as you bring a change of clothes - it’s not like I carry spares around.”

“Clothes. Got it.”

Yang couldn’t help the amusement bubbling up in her chest at the shortness of Blake’s reaction. “C’mon now, isn’t it cliche for the knight to fall in love with the princess that they’re rescuing?”

“I’d argue that it’s a role reversal more than anything,” Blake huffed, and somehow, Yang could just picture Blake folding her arms and fighting a blush. “Not that it matters. I’ll see you at sunset. _With_ clothes.”

  
  


Waiting for the sun to fall was an agony of its own kind - an agony she spent quietly alone. After their conversation, Blake had willingly withdrawn the Mark’s connection, and it felt like it didn’t exist at all. There was no more pain, no more pleasant heat - and Yang would’ve forgotten about it entirely if she hadn’t glanced down every now and then to see the rather innocent looking belladonna flower twisting around one of her scales, looking as though it had been burnt there by an iron brand. 

Eventually though, the familiar song in her veins crackled through her body like lightning as the daylight started to vanish and Yang leapt into the air one final time for the day. Even though she had begun to enjoy the company of humanity, there was always a sense of loss and longing for the open sky that she felt acutely as the night fell. 

For once, that feeling didn’t even surface. Maybe it was because of the Mark that linked her to an actual flesh and blood human, something that rooted her and grounded her or maybe it was just because of the human that the Mark had rooted her to - _Blake_. But it wasn’t something Yang spared a thought to. She probably should’ve - given that Blake was a Slayer, and clearly a talented one at that, but ever since they’d first laid eyes on each other back in Yang’s lair… she knew that there was something more there. Something _more_ than just the magic in their veins.

From the sky, she spotted Blake standing at the mouth of the cave she’d shown. She was too far away to see her exact expression but, as Yang circled lower, she could feel Blake’s awe across the connection, growing stronger the closer Yang got. 

_Still worried I’m gonna eat you?_ Yang thought as she made one last wide circle just above the treeline before landing a few feet from the mouth of the cave with a ground shuddering _thud_. 

“I’ve never seen one of your kind up close before…,” Blake gasped quietly, her neck craned upwards to catch the way that the last glinting rays of the sun skipped across Yang’s golden scales. 

“But - you’re a _Slayer_!” Yang shot back, more stunned than enraged. The horrible feeling from that vision still remained, filling her with a kind of grief that she couldn’t have ever experienced before. 

“We were cowards,” Blake spat at herself - though the animosity almost seemed a knee-jerk reaction as she continued to stare up at Yang in awe. Almost like self-loathing was automated. Engrained. “Adam had us seek out dragons and their lairs in the dark. I’ve never seen _anything_ like you… not in daylight.”

Yang settled her head down on her talons, laying flat down on her haunches as one of her blood-red eyes gazed at Blake, blinking lazily. “Are you scared of me?” she asked quietly, her words accompanied by a low rumble of dissatisfaction in her chest as a curl of smoke huffed out of her nostrils.

“No,” Blake answered - and even if they hadn’t been linked through Blake’s Mark, Yang would’ve known without a shadow of a doubt that Blake was telling the truth. Her expression was so open and vulnerable, her lips parted still in their wonder. “No, I’m not scared, I…. I think you’re beautiful.”

Caught up in the conversation as she was, Yang didn’t recognize the transformation coming down until it twisted at her spine. A lance of pain arced across her body, and if she had any cognizance left, she would’ve tried to warn Blake of the impending agony - because there would be no way that she wouldn't feel it through the Mark.

“Yang!” Blake cried out, collapsing to her knees at the sheer force of the overwhelming sensations clawing at her bones. She tried to crawl towards Yang as she thrashed in pain, but could barely drag herself forward a few feet before succumbing to it all.

It was _worse_ this time. Yang wasn’t sure if it was down to the fact that she just wasn’t prepared for it, or if it was because Blake had Marked her, and it was affecting the transformation, making it more difficult, more painful. It seared across her cells, igniting and burning everything away until there was nothing but ashes left.

But, it eventually ended. And Yang lay prone, completely covered in ash aside from the tears that carved diamond trails out of the dust on her face. “Ouch,” she muttered weakly, shifting herself slowly to a sitting position. 

“You… go through _that_ … every night?” Blake gasped, pushing herself up with an aching body that showed no physical damage. 

“Not quite like that,” Yang admitted with a grimace, stretching an arm behind her back check to see if there was any blood on her back - sometimes the skin stretched in such a way that it left gaping wounds where her wings used to be.

The movement drew Blake’s attention away from her agony, and her eyes caught a glance of Yang’s naked body, the layer of soot doing little to hide her form. “Uh, clothes!” she said abruptly, whipping around to root through her pack before chucking the pants and shirt over her shoulder without looking back. 

“Oh, right,” Yang laughed, as if it hadn’t immediately occurred to her that dressing was an immediate necessity. “I’m, uh, usually alone when that happens.”

“Just-” Blake waved a hand over her shoulder, her voice muffled as she kept her face buried in her other hand. “Get dressed so we can talk about why you’re here.”

“Right,” Yang said, pulling the shirt down over her chest, noting that the material seemed similar to the shirt that Blake wore the other day, with long dark sleeves that billowed out slightly at the wrists before ending in neat cuffs. The pants were a little short on Yang, coming up to her midcalf and a little more constricting than she was used to, but they were soft and moved well. “I imagine the reason I’m here is _not_ so that you can seduce me again with those pretty glowing eyes of yours?”

“Seduce-?” Blake started in confusion, then rolled her eyes. “Back in the cave you mean? That was a simple Compelling. I didn’t expect you to react so strongly to it.”

“These poor old bones have not known the touch or gaze of a beautiful woman in many moons, darling,” Yang said dramatically, tossing herself at Blake with a dramatic gasp, hoping she’d catch her. “Can you blame-”

She did not. “Stop,” Blake said darkly, stepping back and folding her arms as a frown tugged at her lips. _Gods, this shouldn’t be as easy as this._

That last part Yang heard through the Mark as she hit the floor with a small grunt. She rolled over and looked up at Blake, and finally noticed that she had a long, wickedly sharp stiletto secured at her waist. “Blake…,” she asked slowly, still staring up at her as fear, both her own and Blake’s, bled through the connection. “Why _have_ you asked me to meet you here?”

“I…,” she started, her voice unwavering despite the terror that clung to Yang’s veins. “I can’t _do this_ anymore, Yang. I can’t, I - after I saw him last night, ready to kill you where you stood, I just knew I couldn’t stay with him anymore. I’ve been thinking about a plan to take him down for awhile now, I just…”

“I’ve wanted him to burn ever since that day,” Yang growled, residual smoke curling out of her nostrils. She hesitated then. “But… destruction is how we were built. And if not - well. It’s how humanity built us into being. Your kind can be just as awful, if not more so, but… you can also be _so good_. Are you sure about this?”

“My plan was to let him have his victory over the final slaying, killing the last surviving dragon,” Blake’s eyes flashed into Yang’s now human eyes, purple irises matching the dying sunset. The unspoken admittance of Yang being the last dragon hung in the air. She shook her head, continued, “I was going to take his life during that celebration. And then my own.”

“There’s no one left for you either, is there?” Yang asked quietly, shaking hands that weren’t her own tucking two small black pellets into a pouch on her belt. _Nightsbane._

Blake shook her head. “My parents are gone. My best friend died in that attack too. My desire to seek revenge on the dragons for their deaths died out long ago - but Adam was all I had. His anger became the drive for us both. It was all I had left in life, but all I felt was an emptiness after every single kill. Eventually, I wanted it to all end. Quietly. I suppose that I wanted to remind him of peace one last time before Oblivion took us.”

Yang lifted herself up off the floor, her jaw set at the determination she felt from Blake. “So why am I here? Why didn’t you let him kill me and proceed with that plan?”

“You’ve reminded me of something else I lost shortly after becoming a Slayer,” she said simply, tipping her head in consideration in Yang’s direction. “I met a young girl once - though, she couldn’t have been too much younger than myself. She’d lost her mother and grandmother in that same attack, and I could see it so clearly on her face that she wanted revenge too. But she was blinded while trying to save her family, and she made me promise to fight back. Being a Slayer wasn’t just about vengeance. Not for me. It was to help people who couldn’t do anything to help themselves.”

“But what about me is so different, Blake? What exactly did you see in me that made you remember that part of you?”

“You were damaged by humans just the same way I was damaged by dragons. I realized that we could help each other, seeing as we share a common enemy,” Blake said, offering Yang another dagger, a simple hunting knife with a leather-wrapped handle. “Do you know how to use a blade?”

“Not particularly,” Yang shrugged, accepting it anyway, tying the attached smooth three-braided cord around her waist so that it hung comfortably around her hips. “I’m not without my limitations though.”

Blake arched an eyebrow at her, her gaze studying - then quickly turning unexpectedly sympathetic. “Does it hurt? Being in this form?”

Yang extended her hand, flexing her fingers as if to unsheath claws. “No,” Yang murmured in response, the moment turning surprisingly intimate. “Not always.”

“I saw you then,” Blake started, reaching out for her. Silently asking. Yang nodded, letting Blake trail her fingers over the thick ridges of her knuckles. “Back in the cave. Your skin… it was like it had split apart - like there was fire inside and it was breaking you from within.”

Yang hummed, nodding. “Shocked the hell out of the first guy that grabbed me without my permission, only a couple nights after getting cursed.” She suppressed a shudder as Blake’s gentle touch skimmed across her skin, flipping her palm over. “That was when I realized that my emotions can trigger my dragonfire, I guess? Kinda a soul for a dragon-”

“I’m aware,” Blake said, suddenly sharp. Bristling. She dropped Yang’s hand, shut her eyes tight. Fought a frown. “I’ve done my fair share of extinguishing that flame myself.”

Yang fell silent, thinking back to the way that Blake had held that garnet-inlaid dagger with such ease. Tried not to think of the violet blood that must’ve drenched it so many times over. “You saved me yesterday for more than just wanting to be free of it all, didn’t you?”

Blake looked up at her, eyes glittering honestly. Guiltily. “I was… I thought maybe I could, I don’t know - I’ve done so much, so many horrible things. If there was a way for me to fix things in even the smallest way, maybe I wouldn’t hate myself for all of it.”

“I don’t think forgiveness really works like that, Blake,” Yang murmured. “But maybe it’ll have to be enough of a start.”

Blake was quiet for a long while and, when Yang tried reaching out inwardly for that connection across the Mark, she found a darkness. “Let’s just finish this,” was all she said as she headed out of the cave.

  
  


Yang had been following behind Blake for the better part of an hour in complete silence. Blake hadn’t once stopped to look back to make sure that Yang was keeping up, nor had she reopened the Mark’s connection to allow Yang into her mental state. It was a surprise just how _empty_ Yang felt without that connection - even though she’d only had the Mark for barely a day. Something about Blake’s words - how Yang had reacted so strongly to Blake’s magic previously - left Yang wondering if there was something _more powerful_ than magic at play between them.

“Blake,” Yang called out, once, just as the treeline started to appear in front of them. Blake didn’t turn. “ _Blake_ ,” she said, more emphatically, reaching out and grabbing Blake’s shoulder. 

“ _What_ ,” she snapped in reply, whirling around. 

“You have to tell me right now that we’re not on a fucking suicide mission,” Yang said firmly, keeping her grip tight and intentional on Blake’s arm.

Blake’s expression hardened, her mouth a thin line. She did not pull away from Yang’s hand though. “Not for you,” she finally said. “We have to keep moving.”

Yang glared at her, her upper lip lifting in a snarl. Blake thought she caught a flash of incisors that were just _slightly_ too sharp and too long. “You think becoming a martyr will change anything? Do you even think the people in your village will even see you as such?”

“What are you-”

“You said yourself that you and Adam protected this village. They probably see you as heroes,” Yang scoffed, but her eyes were staring deep into Blake’s own - and there was such conviction there. “ _Both_ of you. If you think killing Adam and dying in the process will absolve you of _anything_ ? As if those people will see you as anything but a _murderer_? Then I want no part of it.”

“Then _leave_!” Blake shrieked at her, shoving at her shoulders - her enhancing Slayer strength managing to send Yang stumbling back a few steps. “You don’t have to be around for this, I only saved you back in the cave because I-”

Yang watched as Blake cut herself off abruptly, swearing. With her emotions high and tangled, her guard fell, and the Mark’s connection came flowing back all at once. There was a brief flash of a memory - Yang saw herself as from Blake’s eyes and there was a sharpness to the image. A clarity that Yang couldn’t really tamp down on, but felt the importance of it all the same. “It wasn’t just me, then. Was it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Blake sneered, dismissive. Walls slammed back up around her, and the connection disappeared. “She always said I was a hopeless romantic. But the world was quick to prove to me that nothing good lasts. Adam’s always been right.”

Yang didn’t need the connection to guess. “Your friend. Ilia,” Yang tried softly. The cracks in Blake’s cold facade started to show at the mention of her name, then to crumble. Past feelings flooded into Yang’s mind, not memories so much as impressions of old faded fondness. “She meant a lot to you, didn’t she?”

Blake laughed softly, a rush of air that was more tired regret than anything remotely happy. “She was the first person to tell me that she loved me. Outside of my parents. And the first person that I thought I could maybe see myself loving back. For real.”

Blake shook her head, burying her face in her hand. “And then she was taken from me. She was gone - and I was still here.”

“Blake, I…,” Yang started, suddenly so very unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t that she couldn’t understand Blake’s grief, that she didn’t know what it was like to lose someone - or that she didn’t have the emotional intelligence to relate to her. Blake’s loss and sadness flooded her mind like a tidal wave, and it nearly drowned her. “There has to be an end to all this bloodshed,” she finally said, her own memories of discovering the corpses of other dragons week after week dredged to the surface on the tides of their mingled ocean. “But… _please_. Tell me that it will end without losing you too?”

Blake bit back something that looked like it was going to be a retort. She had already tried turning Yang away - foolishly, at that - and Yang hadn’t responded to that anger. And her words after the fact all but confirmed what Blake had sensed between them the first moment they’d locked eyes - that Mark or not, there was _something_ between them. 

Still, she tested it, pushed the boundaries. Resisted. That last time she had certain she’d felt those feelings of love…. “I’m a Slayer. Why does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t,” Yang responded sharply, and Blake frowned, her nostrils flaring. She should’ve known - “I don’t care that you’re a Slayer. But for some godforsaken reason, I’m finding myself caring about _you_.”

“Side effects of the magic from the Mark,” Blake waved dismissively, trying to keep her thundering heart under control. “It’ll wear off in a few days - but I’ll have removed it by then. You needn’t worry.”

Yang fell silent, obviously presuming - correctly - that Blake was long since done with this conversation. Blake turned from her, trying not to let her relief show in the set of her shoulders, leading her towards the village. But then, after only a few steps-

A _push_. Something _bent_ around her mind, hot and engulfing and entirely disorienting. She gasped aloud, nearly tumbling into a tree, just barely catching herself against the rough bark to steady herself. “What the-”

She turned again to find Yang holding her ground behind her, eyes raging like molten lava. The same colour as they had been while she was still a dragon. Distorted words, as if spoken through water, reverberated within her eardrums, still audibly heard, but moreso present within her mind, somehow. _“You can try to keep me out, and I’ll let you continue to do so. But you’re not the only one with power here. I can find my way past these walls if I really wanted to.”_

Yang continued to stare at her, unmoving. Blake caught sight of her clenched jaw, the way that her dragon fire started to leak out of the veins of her face, her neck. Yang’s power, though limited, was obvious. And Blake could tell by the determination etched through every line of her body, that Yang wasn’t going to give up without a fight - that she would rather destroy herself in the process of tearing down Blake’s walls than be driven away.

“Why do you need to know me?!” Blake screamed, pushing off from the tree in a belaboured lunge at Yang. She hadn’t drawn any weapons, hadn’t been able to put any force behind the attack, instead just ending up crashing into Yang’s waiting arms.

The pressure surrounding her mind lifted as Yang wrapped her arms around her, steady and secure. “I think there comes a point in life where everyone should let at least _someone_ into their life,” Yang explained as Blake shuddered in her embrace, her whole frame trembling. “There’s something between us - I’m not saying that as the reason that I should be that person that you let in - but I am saying that I’m here, right now. So why not accept it?”

“I’m… I’m _scared_ ,” Blake finally let out against Yang’s hair. “If you’ve seen my memories of Ilia, then you know how much that all hurt, I can’t… losing anyone else, I-”

“Blake,” Yang said firmly, pushing against her shoulders. “Look at me. Let me show you something.”

Blake shifted backwards from Yang’s force, wobbling unsteadily - and would’ve probably fallen over if it hadn’t been for Yang’s grip on her shoulders. That _presence_ around her mind settled again, but it was warm like a blanket, rather than stifling or suffocating. 

_“Let me show you_ , _”_ Yang’s voice reverberated in her thoughts.

“Okay,” Blake said quietly, though whether it was aloud or within, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that Yang was surrounding every part of her, from every angle, from every depth. It was as if she was being inspected. _Known_. 

Yang felt Blake’s walls drop once more, and she closed her eyes, just barely catching the way that Blake’s also had started to flutter closed. And Yang closed herself around Blake’s mind, a gentle invasion. 

She showed Blake her memories, her life. The elation of flying for the first time, the pain of falling to the earth. The struggle, the way she endured. The way she watched her flock fly further away from her if she couldn’t keep up. The fight to prove herself. The first time she breathed fire.

The first time she’d used that fire to burn a human. To defend herself, to keep her family safe. To kill. There was shame and pride mixed in with the memories, gold and red swirling around behind Blake’s eyelids. Yang showed her the way that she was driven away from her flock because of her fascination with humans - and how her own brood mother was the one to strike the final blow to sever the mental link that connected her from the rest of her kind.

“I’ve lost much too, Blake,” Yang murmured, using her own voice now. Her words were absent of any deeper rumblings, and when Blake opened her eyes again, she just saw humanity shining in the lilac of her irises. “But I think… being cut off from my kind like that - I think it saved me. And I think it brought us together, in the end.”

“Fate has a funny way of weaving its threads like that,” Blake replied, suddenly becoming aware of the way Yang’s arms felt around her body, how safe she felt in them. She let her arms come up to return the embrace, feeling the unnatural thickness of Yang’s shoulder blades underneath the material of Yang’s shirt. The shirt that Blake had given her to wear. She fought down a blush. 

“And what about yours?” 

Blake looked over at her, confusion twisting at her face. She did her best to focus on Yang’s question, to formulate an answer, but every cell in her body just wanted to be pulled further into Yang’s warmth, to be absorbed and lost in it. She wondered if this was how Yang had felt when Blake Compelled her - or if there was a deeper kind of magic running through their veins, a kind that longed for unity. 

“Your fate,” Yang explained, humming deep in her chest. “Where does yours lead?”

Blake burned as she felt Yang’s hand slide up her back to cradle the back of her head, the places where skin met skin sparking something primal in the air. Breathing in suddenly felt like electricity seared through her lungs, and she caught a bright glow of purple shining through the dark material of Yang’s shirt - the Mark gaining strength as the moon drifted higher in the air. The bond would soon become unbreakable. “ _I think mine was supposed to lead me to you_ ,” she breathed, the words pouring out past her lips and reverberating through her mind, the words settling as emotions deep into their bones.

“Good,” Yang said, stepping back only slightly enough to lift her hands to Blake’s face, to cup her jaw in such an indescribably gentle hold. “I thought I was the only one.”

Passion seared across the Mark as their lips met, and every thought ceased. Words became colours, emotions became sounds. Everything felt _light_ , like they were spinning through space, drifting along lazily over the edges of the universe. 

Blake felt her palm bearing her own Mark grow hot as she buried her hands in Yang’s hair, felt warmth against her chest as she pressed in close to Yang, seeking as much of her body as possible. She could taste the residual grittiness of ashes as she explored Yang’s mouth with her tongue and had to pull back as giggles bubbled up from her chest.

“Okay, that’s… not usually a normal reaction, is it?” Yang said, her eyebrows knitting together in slight concern as she watched Blake lift her hand to her mouth to stifle the sound. “I mean, I know I’m probably not the best kisser, I only know what I’ve seen - and none of that has been very close up….”

“No, no,” Blake said, pressing her hand to her lips as she fought back a smile. “I just… I wasn’t expecting…” she doubled over, her shoulders shaking with mirth.

Nonplussed, Yang let her confusion seep across the Mark, which now seemed to exchange thoughts and feelings between them with ease - almost as if their minds were now one and the same. Still laughing, Blake could only let her reply be a simple impression of a forked tongue.

Yang blinked, then grabbed at Blake’s shoulder, shaking her to encourage her to stand again. “Do humans not-?” she asked, tapping on Blake’s chin as she finally reigned in her laughter. Blake shook her head, opening her mouth and waggling her completely split-free tongue out at her. The teasing expression lasted about as long as it could before Blake broke out into another fit of laughter.

Yang processed this development, her confusion quickly becoming overridden by Blake’s amusement and it wasn’t long before she succumbed to her own laughter, little puffs of smoke escaping her nostrils as she snorted. She drew Blake back into her arms and they collapsed against each other, the world forgotten in their mirth and the feelings that intermingled between their souls. 

A twig snapped off to the side, accompanied by a slow rasp of metal against metal. They whirled together, confronting the sight of Adam stalking towards them, glowing katana drawn.

Blake’s Slayers tattoos started glowing brighter and brighter the closer he approached. “I should have known that you would betray me eventually,” Adam sneered.


	3. Chapter 3

“Adam,” Blake said, her voice quivering. Yang felt the terror like a hurricane in her head, it spilled over her back, through her muscles and igniting her dragonfire. 

“This was supposed to be _our_ conquest! Our victory!” he bellowed as he began circling them, levelling his katana directly at Blake’s heart, as if Yang’s presence meant nothing to him.

“Vengeance was always _your_ goal,” Blake said, finally steadying herself as her hand drifted down towards the hilt of her dagger. 

“Do you not remember what _their_ kind did to us? Your parents?” Adam snarled, his gaze flickering over momentarily to Yang as she crouched slightly, ready for a fight at a moment’s notice. His voice softened, “What they did to Ilia?”

Grief once again threatened to overwhelm Blake, the memories even more painful after having relived them not so long ago. But Yang reached over, took her hand - the one that was Marked - and sent a gentle wave of calming warmth. _“You’re more powerful than him.”_

“I only wanted to protect people!” Blake replied, her grip tightening within Yang’s. “Can’t you see that we’ve hurt them just as much as they’ve hurt us?”

“It’s what they deserve. They’re all _beasts_ , fit for nothing more than to be slaughtered underneath our heel,” he said, lowering his sword slightly. He held out his hand. “Ilia would’ve wanted them all to be destroyed. This one is the last. Join me, Blake. One last time - then we’ll be free of all that pain.”

Yang couldn’t stand quietly any longer. “Pain?!” she snapped, baring her teeth - incisors that were just slightly too long. “You mean like the pain _you_ caused her when you ran her through with your sword?”

A dull throb hit Blake’s abdomen as if a reminder. Her magic had been strong enough to provide a buffer, as well as the connection with Yang, but now that it was brought up, now that she was face to face with Adam once more - it almost became debilitating. 

Adam barely paused at Yang’s accusation. “You’re right,” he said, appearing to mull something over. “Her wound just proves her weakness. She should’ve been able to stop me if she had truly wished to.”

Yang felt horror chill her veins. She glanced at Blake, who stood with blood draining from her face. _He’s going to kill me._

A split second later, Adam laughed. “So it turns out that I never needed you after all. I thought you had an irreplaceable skill set, but it was just the magic that was given to you. Magic that you don’t deserve. But _I do_.”

Without further warning, he lunged at them. Yang could still feel the blank static in Blake’s brain - it almost threatened to overwhelm her too. But she tamped down on the Mark for a moment’s reprieve as she knocked Blake to the ground to get her out of the way of Adam’s blade. _“His blade,”_ Yang said to Blake in her head. _“That’s the source of his power, isn’t it?”_

 _“Power he stole from me, yes,”_ she said, pulling herself up as she drew her dagger and held it in a reverse grip. 

“You Marked yourself to the beast?!” Adam roared, catching sight of the deep purple glow of Blake’s belladonna flower on Yang’s chest and whirling on Blake once more.

“For a dragonslayer, you don’t seem to care very much about the _actual_ dragon standing right in front of you,” Yang mused aloud, her tone bored. “Maybe that’s because you lost all your magic when my flames left you disfigured?”

 _“Yang…,”_ Blake warned cautiously.

“ _You_ ,” Adam growled, fully turning his attention to Yang. _Perfect._ “So you’re the beast I’ve been searching to destroy all along.” 

“The feeling’s mutual,” Yang replied, pulling the dagger Blake had given her out from its sheath. It settled into her hand, somehow comfortable and easy despite never holding a blade before in her life. The small gemstone at the handle glowed a faint red. She glanced over at Blake, who looked as confused as her own Slayer tattoos started to glow in response.

Adam stared in disbelief, his steps faltering in his advance on Yang. “Not only have you _Marked_ this creature, but you’ve _Bonded_ with it already as well?!”

“I…,” Blake gaped, pushing back her sleeves in shock. “That’s impossible - it’s so soon…”

 _“Nevermind that now,”_ Yang urged her back into the present. _“Can it help us defeat him?”_

From across the short distance of the clearing, Yang caught Blake smirking. _“Yes. At the very least, it seems that you now have the same skills as me with the dagger. Just follow my lead.”_

Blake started circling opposite of Yang and Yang followed suit, her steps crossing each other in an easy prowl as they settled into a rhythm with Adam at the center. He growled, trying to keep both of them in his peripheral vision. But he had to know he was outmatched on every level. 

So he charged.

His attacks were ferocious, but imprecise. He must’ve thought that the only way to survive was through brute unrelenting strength. 

He was almost right. 

His sword swung in wide, sharp arcs, and blastwaves of heat emanated out from the edge of his blade and they forced Blake backwards with a grunt as she caught the last of Adam's attacks on the edge of her dagger. Which left an opening for Yang.

She leapt upwards, much higher than any human would've been able to achieve, and slammed into his back feet first, sending them both tumbling into the ground. Yang recovered first, crouched low on the ground, and stoked a blaze within her chest.

"Yang, _don_ ' _t_ -!" Blake shouted a warning, but it was too late.

Yang unleashed her dragonfire at Adam, intending to finish what she'd started, when she found him terrorizing a scared girl with proof of his power. She felt rage sear across her skin, her teeth turning black at the force of the flames blazing from her throat - if it was the last thing she did, she would take him down-

From somewhere within the inferno, Adam was _laughing._ "You _stupid_ animal," he said, his voice emerging from the flames just as the glowing red point of his katana did. "Now killing you both will be child's play."

Somewhere deep in Yang's mind, Blake's muffled thoughts, worry, frantic alarms tried to pull her back into herself before she spent her dragonfire in a way that couldn't be renewed.

" _Yang!_ "

But Adam's sword snapped shut back into its sheath, and all of Yang's fire disappeared with it, stolen and stored and at Adam's mercy. 

Yang collapsed, barely breathing. She was certain the only heartbeat she had left was the frantic _thudthudthud_ of Blake's Mark across her chest. _Get up, please,_ Blake begged her, a cold wash of terror forcing Yang's eyes open. But all she could see was Adam looming over her, his hand resting assuredly on the hilt of his sword.

 _He'll kill you. He'll kill us both_.

"It's such a pity that you won't live long enough to see our righteous quest meet its end," Adam said softly, shaking his head. He kicked Yang onto her back and pressed a boot against her ribs, cracking them easily. Blood pooled inside her lungs as fragments of bone pierced the soft tissue. Without her dragonfire, everything was so… _frail_.

Was this what humanity was? To live on the edge of fear every day knowing that mortality was not certain? Yang knew she was not eternal, but her kind at least returned to the ashes of the earth to give life to a new offspring. To be reborn, in another kind of way. But this? Crushed under the heel of someone with so much _hate_ in their heart? What would be worth saving?

 _Please, Yang. You can't give up. There is so much left in your soul to give_.

Yang looked over sluggishly and saw Blake, standing defiantly and staring down the man who had caused her so much anguish. She faced her abuser and didn't flinch - instead, she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. If it was her end, she'd face it with bravery. 

Strength. Determination. Unflinching will in the face of certain death. _That's_ what humanity was. A desire to survive above all else. And not just survive… but to _live._

Something _pulsed_ within Yang, spreading outward from her heart, surpassing the rhythm of the Mark and strengthening it, and her whole self, as it radiated through her body. She watched, in slow motion, as Adam unsheathed his sword, the red glow from his katana nearly blinding from Yang's stolen dragonfire. His sword seemed to inch from its sheath and Yang _roared_ and heaved herself upwards, swinging her arm up to catch his blade in midmotion.

" _What_ -?" 

The astonishment barely escaped his mouth when Yang's fist curled tight around the glowing blade and _snapped_ it in two. An awful wailing shriek exploded from within the metal as light and fire escaped in a supernova, blasting them all backwards from the epicenter of the trauma.

Yang felt a searing pain course through her arm. Then she blacked out.

  
  


_Yang_.

  
  
  


_Please._

_Just hold on, okay?_

_Hold on…_

  
  
  


_Please._

_For me._

  
  
  


Yang awoke flat on her back, laying on some hard surface. Everything in her body felt stiff, uncomfortable. _Fragile_. 

What…?

"Oh, she's awake!"

Blake's voice, from another room. But also from right next to her. And _inside_ of her. _The Mark,_ Yang realized. She remembered that much.

Yang managed to open her eyes just as harried footsteps came thudding along the wooden floor and briefly took in the stonewalled interior of a room. Before her vision was smothered by dark curls, anyway.

"Oh thank god, I was so worried! I thought you - when I couldn't feel your heartbeat anymore, I…" Blake trailed off in a nervous stammer as Yang let out a weak cough. She slowly, reluctantly, let go of her hold on Yang. 

_Stay. Please?_ Yang tested across the Mark, hoping that the communication was still possible. Because she didn't trust her voice just then - not even sure if she had one left.

Shock and relief pulsed in response - but it was a little muddy. Even so, Yang felt instantly more calm in the presence of Blake's familiar soul.

"She lives, then?" another voice spoke, belonging to a girl with long snow white hair. She entered the room with an imperious royal sort of air and Yang jerked upright on the table, snarling as a memory hit her.

"You're _his_ daughter," she growled, her fists clenching in her lap. "What the hell is she doing here?!"

“I helped save your life, I’ll have you know,” she huffed haughtily as she pushed at Yang’s shoulders, forcing her back down onto the table before raising her hands above her torso.

“Like _hell_ you did-” Yang started, her upper lip lifting in a snarl. It was just then that Yang realized that the familiar _burn_ of dragonfire in her chest, something that accompanied her anger when she was held within this form, was gone.

Without it, her chest felt… hollow.

“Yang,” Blake said, and it echoed in her mind, soothing some of the emptiness that resonated in her ribcage. “I brought you to her. I… after what happened - I thought you were _dead._ I didn’t know what else to do. Weiss was the only person that I knew of who could’ve saved you like she did.”

 _...dead?_ Yang thought, feeling hollow now for an entirely different reason. “But… her father-”

“He was a deplorable man,” Weiss said strongly from above her. “But,” she continued as she positioned her fingers _just so_ and circled her hands counterclockwise above her chest. “He taught me everything I know. And ever since that day, I have been using my magic to leave the world better than he left it.”

A shimmering circle of sky blue appeared between her slender hands and a thin sheen of magic settled over Yang’s body, travelling up and down her frame in a wave for a few moments before disappearing. “I managed to heal the superficial wounds, as well as your broken ribs. Though there will be residual bruising. But you really have Blake to thank for your survival.”

Yang turned to her as she sat at eye level next to her on a bedside chair. She smiled, though it was weak. But despite that, it was still the most beautiful thing Yang had ever seen. “When you broke Adam’s sword, all of the magic he had stolen rushed out in a wave. It’s what knocked you out - and it would’ve had me too. Except some of that magic was _mine_.”

Yang searched the blank spaces in her memories, trying to remember _something_ after that horrific pain in her arm had overtaken her, debilitated her. She found nothing. Instead, Blake provided the images. Yang, on the ground in a crater created by the blast, with blood pouring from a headwound. Adam, somewhere in the distance, slumped against a tree. 

Blake’s own arms in front of herself, tattoos glowing a brilliant scarlet.

Yang sat up slowly, toes brushing against the cobblestone flooring as Blake continued on. “I carried you out of there with the help of my magic - I almost felt invincible. It’s been years since I’ve ever felt that strong. Not since Adam stole part of my magic from me,” she said, reaching up to brush stray hairs away from Yang’s face. The absolute gentle care in Blake’s face made Yang want to kiss her again, right then and there.

But….

“And… Adam?”

Blake shook her head, grim. A gruesome image appeared in Yang’s mind - Adam, lifeless against a tree, his body slumped at an unnatural angle, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “He was thrown against a tree and his spine was completely broken. I didn’t look, but… his skull might’ve…” She shook her head again. “He’s gone.”

“What does she mean - that I have _you_ to thank for my survival?” Yang gestured over to Weiss, who was busying herself with gathering her medical supplies now that she had finished her assessment of Yang’s healing.

At that, Blake grew solemn, but resolute. She reached across Yang’s body and took her right hand within both of hers. Her right arm which was _covered in scales_ . Yang gaped as she took in her arm for the first time since waking, her eyes tracking up the golden scales that covered her whole arm, all the way up to her shoulder where it stopped just past the joint. “When you broke his sword, part of the magic and dragonfire used your arm as a conduit and _fused_ scales to your body like this. I… I watched as your skin seemed to melt and burn, crawling up your arm like some kind of disease. I wasn’t sure what would happen if it reached your heart - not with daylight still some hours away. I was worried that it would harden your heart, or cripple it, or turn it to stone, I-”

Yang felt the fear flutter across the Mark, but it was still distorted, in some way. _No,_ Yang finally realized, _not distorted. Just weaker_. Understanding dawned on her. “You… you gave up your magic. _For me_.”

Blake hummed, folding inwards on herself, just a little bit. She didn’t regret the action, but the loss was felt all the same. Yang turned her thoughts to the hollowness in her own chest - and it was a feeling she could relate to. She would’ve given anything to make sure that Blake made it out of that encounter with Adam alive - but to have her dragonfire stolen from her in such a violent way….

“It was the only way for Weiss to stop the spread from overtaking the rest of your body,” Blake said softly. “She needed a more powerful source of magic to draw from in order to combat whatever Wyld magic had been unleashed.”

“It could’ve killed her,” Weiss said as she turned back around, healer’s bag tucked under her arm. With one hand on the door handle, she continued. “Whatever kept her alive, _both_ of you, I believe was even stronger than the deepest magic.”

“Yeah,” Yang breathed, lifting her hand, the one of flesh and blood, up to her chest and traced the Mark that she knew was still imprinted there on her skin. “Maybe something a little like destiny.”

Blake reached up and cupped her palm across Yang’s cheek, the one that still glowed a faint purple from her Mark. Heat flared from the contact, seared across their skin, left an afterimage of glowing purple flowers. She tangled her fingers in Yang’s hair, pulled her down so that her words ghosted across Yang’s lips. “Or something like fate,” she whispered, their lips meeting and setting their world alight.

But this time, there was no magic except the love between them both.


End file.
